Success is fun

Like a zillion times before, Asherel stepped to the middle of the gym floor, held her helicopter with the tightly wound rubber band aloft and released it. But this time was not to be like all the other times when it fluttered to the ground with wobbly despair. This time it lifted to the tall gym ceiling, both rotors spinning, beautifully balanced. We began to be hopeful as thirty seconds went by and it was still scraping the ceiling, then a minute, then a minute thirty.... then two minutes....then three minutes. Then it stopped spinning and it was still on the ceiling. Its point had stuck into the ceiling tile. The kids shot it down with rubber bands and we tried again.

This time it flew for a minute and forty seconds. We were contenders. We put the helicopter away jubilantly. Short of a disaster, we should not embarrass ourselves at the Science Olympiad competition... and suddenly Asherel is talking about what they will do next year. A little success goes a long way towards motivation.

I will admit that I have had a philosophical conundrum throughout this year. I have heard more times than I would like to recount, "It has to be fun." I like fun as much as the next guy, but I have always countered with, "It is fun to do your best. There is a time and place for silliness, for goofing off, but that is not why I am volunteering my time to coach. Success is fun, believe me."

I think the joy on my helicopter teams' faces indicates they are beginning to understand fun.

I think most times 'fun' is equated with mindless, relaxing, ultimately meaningless endeavors. I don't think hard work, failure, repeated trials, frustration, despair is usually associated with 'fun'. But when the fruit of all those rough moments is victory.... suddenly looking back on it all, you realize that was fun, and you missed it.

I know I bring a pretty serious type A mindset to endeavors. I never enjoyed the silliness of fellow students growing up, just didn't get it. I am still not a big fan of silly. But I am wired for whatever neurotic reason to always try to do my best. And sad to say, that is what I expect of those around me. I am not the ideal coach by a long shot. I find it hard to motivate slackers. I just don't really relate to that mind set, and frankly, it makes me mad. But the science team needed coaches and so they were stuck with what they could scrounge up. Every time we finish a practice, I find myself praying, chastising myself for not being gentler, kinder, quieter. Maybe I just don't really understand fun.

As we left the gym, Asherel turned to me with a huge smile on her face, "THAT was fun," she said.

Psalm 20:5

⁵ May we shout for joy over your victory
   and lift up our banners in the name of our God.
   May the LORD grant all your requests.

Three feet of Snow

Matt called from UVa- he would not be coming home yet from college as his car was buried under three feet of snow. In fact, it was still snowing and I suspect we may not see him til the Spring. If he had left Thursday, like I suggested..... but I am not upset or anything like that..... he would be home with his family roasting chestnuts on an open fire. Instead, he is stranded with little food, few businesses open, and a weather report that doesn't look promising despite the global warming that is frying the other parts of the world.

As if I wasn't nervous enough about my dear son driving through the treacherous mountains in winter, the forecast in our area was ominous:
"We might possibly perhaps maybe get an ice storm with the potential possibility of perceivably plausible almost likely feasible accumulation of 1- 100 inches of snow." This was a typical winter forecast in Charlotte, certain to send hordes of shoppers braving the elements for bread and toilet paper. It had double angst production for me, as I was worried about Matt ever coming home again with such dire weather forecasts, and we had to travel an hour south the next day to attend Hollow Creek Farm Open House. Since Arvo was the back up Santa, our presence was critical. How would we make it through all the ice?

However, surprisingly, not a nanosecond of snowfall materialized and the roads were clear and ice free in Charlotte this morning. We went to the open house, and my friend Roxan and I had a wonderful time walking the dogs that needed potty breaks during the festivities. As we were happily chatting and the dogs were delighted to be roaming further than their typical walks allowed, we suddenly spied a shirt on the edge of a ditch. We both slammed to a stop, and said, "That is odd." Roxan feared there might be a body somewhere near the shirt, and we nervously glanced around, but there was not. The shirt was neatly lying by the ditch, a pattern of doves all over it, and disembodied hands reaching to the doves, in prayer.

I reminded Roxan that God is always sending messages, but we so often don't understand what He is saying. At the moment, I could not for the life of me understand what this symbol might mean. However, many hours later, I realized that my Bible study that morning had been about Joseph, and how his brothers had tossed him in the well, and then brought his many colored coat back to their father to convince him that Joseph was dead. But Joseph was not dead, and went on to rise to a position of power in Egypt and ultimately save his family and the Israelites from starvation in the ensuing famine. The empty coat became a symbol of apparent disaster turned into victory and salvation.

I often assume the worst, prepare for the disaster.... and then like the anticipated ice storm, it doesn't come.
Sometimes a shirt with doves and the hand of God on it does not mean there is a dead body nearby. Sometimes it just means that someone who thought they were in the bottom of a well, are instead being prepared for a great task they never envisioned. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's you.